Chapter 30
A miracle, or the worst deception?
“How?” I whisper.
Laura’s eyes are wide, almost protruding, as she hugs her knees. “Blindsided.”
I lay on a plush bed with Mort, Leenie, and Laura staring at me. I take a slow breath, trying to slow my heart rate down.
When I saw him, it was like a shock to my system. My soul left my body for a split second then came back.
“Did Pierce know all along?” I ask Mort.
Mort glances at Leenie. “I believe he did.”
“Why in the hell didn’t he say anything, Mort?” I sit up, feeling almost betrayed, hurt, ~stupid~ .
Mort looks innocent as she visibly swallows. “I do not know, but if I were to guess, I’m guessing that it would have to do with Fairy Godmother rules.
“Until you find out for yourself, Pierce can only nudge you. He cannot under any circumstances interfere with Fate. Pierce cannot give you information such as this unless you find out for yourself.”
“Awesome,” I say, and grit my teeth. “This whole time it was freaking Apollo. How embarrassing.”
Laura shakes her head and clicks her tongue. “But he looked so different with that dark hair and bad-boy getup. I guess the mask just gave the illusion of someone else.
“I mean, in hindsight, I can see it now. Same body type and arrogance, I suppose. And I guess he still had those weird black eyes, but I just thought it was because he was evil or something.
“And, usually, people with dark coloring have dark eyes.” She glances at me with a shrug. “I didn’t know, Viola. Do not feel bad. Your eyes saw what you wanted them to see, and you saw a cutthroat killer.”
She sighs and pats my leg.
“I should have known,” I admit. I should have known it was Apollo’s lips, hands, body, and soul, but I didn’t. That makes me feel horrible and confused.
Taking a calming breath, I glance at my hands. I was so obsessed with getting back to Apollo that I missed the most obvious thing right in front of me. My guilt clouded what was so apparent.
Laura snorts. “You were not the only one who was duped.”
“Tarren,” I say.
Mort snorts too. “Now that was a great disguise. I had no idea. He was really hairy.” Mort’s eyes are wide as she glances at Leenie. “Did you?”
“No,” she clips out, looking bored. “Didn’t care enough to notice.”
Laura huffs, pulling her long blond hair to the side. “I am not sure if I’m mad or not. I can’t decide.”
A knock on the door makes us all tense .
Mort and Leenie are gone in a flash.
Laura gets up to go to the door and I hold my breath. I am not sure if I am ready to see Apollo just yet.
I need to get my feelings and emotions in order. I don’t want to see him when I am an emotional mess.
I tense as the door opens, revealing Tarren, clean and shaven. Relief washes over me. He looks handsome, the same dashing Tarren that I thought was a rugged pirate.
I can’t see Laura’s face, but I can tell something is passing between them. My heart is in my chest. He is saying something to her, something I can’t quite make out, though it is not my business.
I turn and pretend to examine my fingernails.
~I’d kill for a mani/pedi.~
I peek over my shoulder and see them embracing, her head buried in his neck. At that moment I smile, a warmth spreading through me like honey.
Laura thought she was falling in love with a cutthroat pirate when it was the noble Tarren in disguise.
I am so happy for her, because truthfully, I was a little nervous about the cutthroat pirate guy being her lover.
Fate knows what it’s doing.
That scenario would probably never repeat itself in a million years.
Tarren lifts his head and glances at me, and I hold my breath. “Tarren,” I say.
He takes Laura’s hand and leads her over to where I am, never taking his gaze from me. Tarren sits in the chair next to the bed and inhales. When he tilts his head at me, he reminds me of Apollo.
“Are you okay?” he asks .
I stare at him.
Tarren nods. “Apollo is cured,” he says carefully, and he glances at Laura then back to me.
“That’s great news,” I breathe, my hands twisting my pale green gown. No matter what I’m feeling, that is wonderful news. It feels like a weight lifted off my shoulders.
“Let me clear some things up for you. Apollo is a very strong man, not easily taken down by a drone’s poison. But it did affect him mentally—profoundly, actually.” He pauses.
“When you both were taken, Apollo was extremely ill, but still able to function on pure stubbornness.
“We found out about Irena’s deception and demanded she tell us what was happening, to put it nicely. It was at that point when Apollo started showing signs of not being himself.”
“The poison,” I say.
Tarren nods. “He would turn dark, not remembering what he did. Blackouts would happen, scaring everyone. That’s when I knew we were racing against the clock.
“Apollo would not break down physically first, but mentally. The beast within was emerging.”
“Oh my,” Laura murmurs. “That actually makes sense. I always thought Apollo was different—supernaturally weird, even.” She shot me a glance. “In a good way.”
I try not to smile.
Tarren leans back in the chair. “Yes, we were all very nervous, not knowing how long we had. So, we faked Apollo’s coma and devised a plan to rescue you both.
“We did not want anyone thinking Apollo would come after you. I advised that Apollo should stay out of it, with him being so unpredictable, but he was not having it.
“We intercepted Black Siron’s ship and made quite the bargain with them. A king’s ransom to let us go as them so as to not raise the alarm, in a nutshell.” He grins.
“I still can’t believe we were able to pull it off in that short of time. Apollo wanted to be Siron, not wanting anyone else to have you.
“His mind didn’t understand that this was all a ploy, fake. It was almost like he didn’t comprehend—his awareness not working properly. He would get lost in the ploy as if it were real.
“At one point he would remember, then the next he would not. Then he lost his voice right before we got to you and that’s when his mind took a dangerous turn.
“The poison took a stronger hold of him the more time passed. He was competing with himself, not realizing that he was Apollo and vice versa.”
I am stunned, not sure what to say. I don’t know what I was thinking but it was not this. Honestly, in this foreign world, I did not know what the hell was going on.
“It’s starting to make more sense. But why didn’t you just tell me?” My heart goes out to Apollo, realizing now how hard it must have been. He still came for me even though he was so sick in the worst way.
“He made me promise not to. He didn’t want you knowing how messed up in the head he was. And at the time I thought it might be best if you didn’t know anything until he was healed.
“I was sure you would avoid him like the plague, but I was wrong, I guess. You were drawn together no matter what.”
I can feel my face heat. “Yes, well, he was not exactly the mean killer I thought him to be.”
That’s because he was Apollo.
~Mega eye roll.~
“Yes, he would come back to himself occasionally. He was so angry that you were falling in love with Siron. He was jealous of his own self, in a sense.” Tarren locks eyes with me.
“I had to be the one to calm him down. It was not pretty. I received a broken eye socket, hence the eye patch. He was a beast, unable to process that you would kiss another man.”
“That is not fair,” I whisper.
“That is manipulation.” Laura’s voice is angry. “Definitely not her fault.”
Tarren holds up his hands. “Ladies, Apollo was not himself. I realize this, and now he does as well.”
I swallow, wondering how Apollo must have taken the news. “Did he remember everything?”
“Yes.”
~Shit.~
“I need to see him,” I say.
He nods then glances down as if he doesn’t know what to say.
“What?” My heart palpitates.
“He still needs to recover.”
I can see Laura looking at me.
“He’s sick still?” I ask.
Tarren looks up at me. “He’s angry with you.”
I gasp, my skin feeling hot. “Why? ”
~But then I knew what Tarren would say.~
“He believes you both are the cause of this deception and he told me to tell you that he wants nothing to do with you.” He quickly adds at my gasp, “Until you come clean.
“He said your deception almost cost him and the citizens of Garthorn their lives.” Tarren’s face reddens. “He’s really angry, so much so that he sent me here instead of himself.”
My mouth is hanging open. “That piece of shit.”
Tarren’s eyes widen.
“That arrogant devil can’t come and tell me himself?” I mutter to myself as my blood boils.
Tarren looks to Laura for help, but she just lifts her chin.
Bitch code.
I stand up. “Where is he?”
“That is not wise, my lady.”
Laura walks up to Tarren, saying slowly and firmly, “Tell her where he is. This is not your battle, Tarren.”
He exhales and glances at me, then finally mutters, “He HAS been a royal pain in the ass. Go get him then.” He winks at me.
I fight a grin. Apollo will not pull a temper tantrum after everything I have been through. I have a plan to bring that boy to his knees.
***
“Mort,”
“Yes, human.”
I am powerwalking to Apollo’s quarters after Tarren gave me directions. I am beyond over this. “We need to make a pit stop, code red. ”
She is trying to keep up with me as she walks. “Code red?”
I am happy that Eltson is treating the Garthorn Royal Army with open arms. Three more Garthorn ships arrived today—that would be enough to make anyone crap their pants.
Eltson’s men do not have a choice but to be very hospitable. Especially after the knowledge of the sex trade got out.
“I need Pierce.”
“Take the door on your next right.”
We enter a small sitting room, thankful that it is empty. I am breathing hard, my adrenaline pounding through my veins. “I need a killer dress—or undergarments—whatever.”
She is typing and blinking faster than normal. “Oh. I have an update.”
“What?” I say, impatient. I just need to see Apollo—like, right now.
“Apollo is attending a party right now. He is not in his room.” Mort looks up at me. “It’s something Eltson put on to keep Apollo and the Garthorn royals happy until they leave at first light.”
“What?!” I shriek.
Mort is still typing. “Pierce says go to the party. Act like you are not there to see him. Play your cat-and-mouse game, then go in for the kill.”
I suddenly grin. “Pierce, you dirty dog.” I take a breath. “Is Laura going?”
Mort rolls her eyes. “No, I think she is mating with Tarren.”
“Gross,” I say. “It’s not called mating, Mort. She is making love, hooking up, getting laid.”
She frowns. “Mammals on Earth mate. I read that.”
“Yeah, for animals, Mort.”
She stares at me .
“Never mind, just tell Pierce to make me a killer gown. It’s okay that I attend, right?” I try not to panic.
“Oh yes, there are a ton of women here. Have you seen how big this place is?” she asks while typing.
~Oh perfect.~
~I bet they are having a heyday with Apollo.~
I close my eyes and curse. Why do I feel so panicky? I think I just need to see him and talk to him to make sure we’re okay. ~Gosh,~ I sound like a lovesick moron.
“Pierce already has a red gown in stock he wants to use, he just needs to adjust it to your size. He says five minutes. He has ten people working overtime on it,” Mort confirms.
“Awesome,” I say, pacing around. “Hurry, hurry,” I say to myself.
“Oh! I got something for you.”
I glance at Mort with an eyebrow raise. “Well, it’s from Laura.”
“What?”
Two large drinks appear in her hand. “Tequila drink—from Pierce at Laura’s request.”
I laugh, covering my mouth, feeling so touched. “This is amazing,” I say, and take one, gazing at it like it’s the Holy Grail. “I really needed this.” I laugh. It tastes amazing—a refreshing margarita.
I hear a choking sound.
“This tastes really bad,” Mort says with a grimace, and puts her drink down with a shiver.
“It’s delicious, Mort,” I purr as I drink more, feeling its calming warmth. “It has alcohol in it, that’s probably what you’re not liking. ”
I do not want to see Mort drunk right now.
I need her.
Drinking my lovely margarita, I wait, loving that I feel so much calmer. Stress is gone like the wind. ~Thank you, Laura~ . “Ready?”
Mort types more, then nods. “Ready.”
I spin like Cinderella. I know the drill. My green gown transforms into a ravishing ruby ballgown. I gasp, my hands feeling the satin fabric that seems to be spun from pure hellfire.
“Oh,” I murmur as I feel the V-dipping neckline and tight waist. The rich fabric flows out at the hips like glistening rubies.
Mort starts clapping.
I feel my hair and I can tell Pierce did an updo fit for a queen. “Mirror,” I breathe.
Mort shows me a hand mirror and I laugh, covering my mouth. I look stunning. The ruby of my lips matches my gown flawlessly. I am seduction personified.
My raven hair is glossy and piled high on my head, elegantly accenting my long neck.
“Tell Pierce this is incredible.” I glance at my smooth skin, my high cheekbones highlighted by a dark blush. My eyes are classic and sultry, making my discolored gaze seem to glow.
I feel devious, cunning, confident, ~sexy.~
“Now go get him! Bring this mission to an end. No one does it like Pierce.” Mort gives me a nod like a soldier.
If this doesn’t work, nothing will.
Before I leave, I glance back. “When can I tell him, Mort?”
Mort sighs. “Not until the twelfth hour of the day before the mission ends. A week and a half.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “That’s going to be an issue.”
Mort doesn’t say anything, and I leave with a heavy heart.
I walk alone, my ruby skirts flowing around me with each careful step. The hallways are dimly lit, creating an eerie effect. I shiver. I can hear my red heels and my deep breathing, heart pounding.
This could turn out bad or good. A wave of nervousness washes over me when I near the great room.
It’s not as big as a ballroom, but still large enough to hold a hundred people. It seems more intimate. The light is very low, romantic even, mysterious.
It’s perfect.
I walk in and feel the hairs on my skin stand on end. Eyes are on me. My body tingles and my stomach tightens. I take a breath and saunter through the crowd.
~I’m just here for a drink~ , I tell myself. A server comes up to me when I reach the far end of the room, asking me if I would like champagne.
~Yes.~
I have tunnel vision. People swarm everywhere, women in lovely gowns and men in their finery. I feel hopeless, a sadness overcoming me.
I take a sip and pretend to feel nothing, wondering if Apollo is even here. Hopefully he did not decide to leave.
I start to scan the room, needing to know if I’m wasting my time. Everywhere I secretly examine I do not see Apollo, and that’s when I start to doubt my decision in coming here.
I dodge men’s advances and make my way to an outdoor garden area, the tropical air drifting in.
I freeze .
I stand in the doorway and see Apollo’s magnificent form faced away from me. His hands are resting on the balcony rail with his head hung low. He looks very upset, and I can probably guess why.
I shouldn’t feel a happy thrill that he’s not having fun with twenty-plus women around him. I pray he is in the same agony that I am.
As if he can sense me, he slowly turns around, and the expression on his face when he sees me is nothing short of shock. Disbelief.
Something raw and intense flickers in his deep gaze.
My knees want to give out. The full impact of seeing him without his mask on makes me want to groan, swoon, and fan my flushed face.
Apollo is gorgeous. His hair is still dark but shorter, in a messy, sexy-as-hell man bun. One loose ringlet has escaped the unruly confines of his tie.
He is dark beauty.
Lethal on so many levels.
I can see his skin and a little upper chest; his dark shirt is undone in an almost messy fashion. Like he could give two shits how he looks. Which is even hotter in my opinion.
Not to mention his shirt is loosely tucked into his trim hips, showing off his powerful thighs and ~bulge.~
I look away to regain my wits.
~Take a breath.~
~Don’t hyperventilate.~
When I glance back, I notice that he is taking me in like I was him. The fire in his eyes is borderline unnatural.
He pushes off the balcony and walks up to me slowly, like a stalking predator. His chest is rising and falling, and I can see the veins in his neck, jaw tense .
I swallow and look up at him, incredibly nervous. He stops mere breaths from me, and I can’t look away, though I try. I am shaking, senses on overdrive.
I feel my eyes sting with emotion, and I make a small sound.
His glittering gaze moves over my face, to my lips, then down to the swell of my breasts. He is breathing hard. The tension is so thick I can almost taste it, choke on it.
Apollo reaches for my hand and gently brings it to his hot lips, eyes locked on mine. I suck in a harsh breath when I feel his tongue swirl over my inner wrist.
He kisses each finger so softly I think I might die from the torture. The low lighting on his face gives him a wicked appeal, dangerous. This man is capable of very bad things, naughty things.
“Dance with me,” he whispers.
I do not have a voice.
He tilts his head and takes my hand, pulling me. Apollo pulls me to the dimly lit dance floor, which is very crowded.
But I don’t see any of them.
A melody similar to “Moonlight Sonata” rings loudly in the air, intensifying our intangible chemistry. The sound is dark and sensual, transforming, manifesting something quite powerful.
His hand on my lower back presses me to him, his hot mouth tracing down my long neck, barely touching his tongue there. We are moving, swaying slowly, gracefully, as he kisses my shoulder.
My eyes fall closed, and a moan escapes my lips.
There is no need for words.
I can hear him loud and clear.
Apollo spins me, and his hands are everywhere they shouldn’t be in an elegant dance. I catch a glimpse of his eyes in the dim lighting and a thrill explodes in my body.
He has a dark grin playing on his lips as his movements become more demanding. He jerks me up against his body and dips me aggressively.
Luckily, I am a great dancer, and I adapt to him, feeling the passion, the dark desire burning off him.
I faintly realize Apollo is a brilliant dancer—a ~sexy ~ dancer.
His lips scorch a burning trail down my neck to the valley between my breasts, licking and softly sucking. I feel him smile against me and heat swarms in my belly.
He pulls me back up and we spin together, his lower hand pressing and molding my ass to him. More strands of hair escape into Apollo’s face making him even sexier than ever.
I am smoldering, burning embers.
With one breath of air, I will ignite.
His lips are on my neck, my body pressing to his most scandalously. I can feel the hard muscle under his clothes and the heat of his body.
He leans back and grabs my face with his calloused hand. He stares down at me with an intensity that takes my breath away. His lips crush to mine, groaning into me.
This kiss is different. It is profound.
I feel a tear stream down my cheek as his mouth devours mine. I can barely catch a breath for he is kissing me so furiously. It’s almost as if the kiss is punishing me, bruising me.
We stop dancing in the middle of the dance floor, my hands cupping his face as we kiss, our lips pouring into one another. The ground falls away, reality falls away.
He is everything to me, I realize .
Apollo bends down and scoops me up, still moving his lips over mine. He holds me close and whispers in my ear, “ ~Want a private dance?”~
Shivers explode all over my body, and I can barely breathe. He whisks me away, not letting me escape his tight grasp.
I grin into his neck. Looks like years working in a strip joint will shockingly pay off.
For the first time ever, I thank my bad life choices.